


everybody knows that it's moving fast

by coffeewordangel



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Horror, I can't believe I forgot to tag for horror, M/M, No Major Character Death, and all the death that comes with that, apocalypse au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:04:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6423235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeewordangel/pseuds/coffeewordangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the way the world ends<br/>Not with a bang but a whimper</p>
            </blockquote>





	everybody knows that it's moving fast

**Author's Note:**

> Title and ambience provided by Leonard Cohen's Everybody Knows. Although, if one were to play it for ambience, the breakdown is really more like 70% Concrete Blonde/30% Leonard Cohen.
> 
> Also, if shades of The Stand happen, I couldn't help myself.
> 
> And another thing: I am so, so very sorry for this.

Liam wakes up on a Thursday in Malibu to smoke thick in his nostrils. He panics, adrenaline propelling him out of bed, before realizing it's coming from outside. He left the patio door open last night, letting the ocean and a mid-spring breeze lull him to sleep. Now the air is hazy and everything seems unsettlingly quiet.

He steps outside onto the flagstone and frowns. Smoke roils in the distance, dark and ominous. It feels like it's too early for fire season, but California has a tendency to go up in flames he's discovered. It's strange there's no one else out watching, though. Humanity loves a good natural disaster. The silence makes his empty house seem emptier somehow.

Liam's taking a few weeks to clear his head. At least, that's what he told everyone. It might be closer to say that he's hiding out. He needs a break from the relationship management has orchestrated for him. He needs a break from the cameras. Mostly though, he needs to figure out how to ready himself to be in the same building as Zayn. There's over a year's worth of hurt and sexual tension between them and it's going to play out publicly if he can't figure out how to bury it in time.

A wet groan splits the morning stillness. Liam startles. There's a man lying prone on his lawn, partially hidden by bushes. How did he even get on the property? Liam hired perimeter security for a reason.

"Hey mate, you drunk?" he calls, walking closer. 

The man siezes, coughing wet and terrible from deep in his lungs. As Liam gets closer he can see the blood half-congealed on his chin, streaks running from his eyes like tears. There's something very wrong with him. Drugs maybe? Is there a drug that makes you bleed from your eyeballs?

"Shit," Liam mutters. "Wait here, okay? I'll call for help."

It's clear the man isn't going anywhere, doesn't appear to have even heard Liam. He sprints back to the house and grabs his phone off the charger. He pauses at the vast amount of notifications and missed calls, but bypasses them to dial 911. There's nothing on the other end. He checks to make sure he didn't dial 999 by accident, but no. Just dead air where an efficient operator should be. Fuck.

Maybe he can load him into a car and take him to a hospital himself. Panic squeezes his lungs, tightens in bands around his chest. He doesn't know what to do. He heads back outside, phone clutched in his hand. The man is where he left him, unnaturally still. He's no longer wheezing. He's no longer breathing. Liam doesn't want to touch him, but he has to make sure. He winces at the feel of yielding flesh under his fingers. No pulse.

It would probably be a good idea to check those messages while he figures out who to call. He can't just leave a dead body on his lawn. What if the press found out? That's a horrible thought to have, but one he's had in various situations over the years. Keep it quiet, keep it secret, only show the world what management decrees acceptable. He's fucked that up before, he's only human, but drunk photos are not the same as dead bodies. He might be hyperventilating a little.

The first voicemail is from Andy. "I know you're on sabbatical or something, but turn on a TV. I. I don't know what the fuck is going on. Be safe." 

Liam frowns. There's a TV in the living room, but he hasn't used it for anything but video games and the occasional movie in the last couple weeks. The remote is wedged between couch cushions. His hands are trembling as he fishes it out. Andy had sounded scared. 

The first few channels he tries are nothing but a blue screen. One is nothing but an empty newsroom, like someone left the camera running after broadcast. Unease creeps up his spine. Finally he stumbles on a local affiliate beeping an emergency broadcast. He tries to read the scrolling news tape, but it's not making sense. Words swirl in his brain, disconnected. Pandemic. Quarantine. Airports closed. Don't panic. Stay home. Highly contagious. How? He's only been off the grid for two weeks.

Most of the messages are people checking in. Half of them he's not even sure he knows. The last one, though, starts with a sob. 

"Mum's dead." It's Ruth, nearly incoherent between sobs. "I don't. She. She was fine yesterday. Little cold, you know? And they said hospitals were closed this morning, told us to stay home and and..." She breaks off into a wet cough that sends Liam into full body paralysis. He's heard that cough. On his lawn. From a dead man. "They said she'd be fine. And she wasn't."

The connection breaks on another sob. Liam's legs fail to support him, tumbling him onto the couch. This can't be real. He'd _just_ talked to her. He hits Ruth's smiling face with his thumb and listens to the phone ring on the other end. Her voicemail answers. He hangs up and tries Nic, then his dad. No answer. Dread pools in his stomach. He's shaking so hard he almost drops the phone.

He calls the only family left he can think of.

There's a click and silence and Liam's terrified it will be like emergency services. "'Lo?" a broken voice finally answers.

Relief floods his numb limbs. "Zayn."

"Liam?" Zayn sounds so young, voice shaking.

"Where are you, baby?" Liam asks, panicked at the thought of Zayn across the country. "Are you still in New York?"

"No. Got back to LA just before they shut the airports."

"Thank God. Are you sick?" He hates even asking. Doesn't really want to know the answer.

Zayn makes a choked sound on the other end. "Not me. They. Everyone's gone, Li." 

Liam squeezes his eyes shut. He can't fall apart just yet. He has to hold it together just a little while longer. "I'm so sorry. I need you to stay where you are, okay? Can you do that for me?"

"Are you coming?" Zayn's voice is breaking his heart. He wishes he could teleport.

"Yes," Liam replies fervently. "I'll always come for you. I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't know what the roads are like, but I'm coming."

"Okay."

Liam takes a deep breath. "I need to get off the phone so I can, okay, love?"

Zayn sighs shakily. "Yeah. I'll wait for you."

Liam bites down sharply against the 'I love you' that threatens to spill out. Instead he says, "Good. That's good. I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Li," Zayn returns brokenly.

He takes a moment for a deep, centering breath and calls Louis. Louis answers right away, voice strained but relieved. "Liam."

"I. I just found out," Liam tells him in a rush of words. "Have you. Have you talked to the guys? Harry? Niall? Are they..."

"Fine," Louis cuts him off sharply. "They're fine. Scared, yeah? Niall's in the states for some golf thing down south, Harry's still here."

"Okay. I need you to grab Harry and get to Zayn's place."

There's a brief pause. "Liam," he says with a warning note in his voice.

Liam frowns and affects a tone he hasn't had to use in years. The one he brought out when everyone was mucking about and there was work to be done. "Don't. I don't care right now, Louis. Get Harry and get to Zayn. Don't pretend you don't know where he lives. You've been keeping tabs just like the rest of us."

"Don't use the Daddy voice on me, Liam," Louis shoots back caustically. He sighs a moment later. "Fine. Don't know he'll be happy to see us."

"I don't think happy is something Zayn will be capable of for a while," Liam points out, voice tight.

"Yeah. I guess. You're coming?"

"I'll be there."

Liam hangs up on him. He's angry. So angry. The world is ending and there are more important things than broken contracts and grudges. He starts to shake, sinking into the couch, everything finally hitting him. Tears run hot down his cheeks and he convulses with the pain, crying so hard his lips numb and his chest aches. His last hysterical thought before giving into the grief is that he won't have to worry anymore about running into Zayn at an award's show in front of the world.


End file.
